


Chocolates and Surprises

by Enjolrataire



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 08:48:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1339327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enjolrataire/pseuds/Enjolrataire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His name meant so much more when Jehan said it. His heart fluttered as he breathed in all of Jehan- all he could get in that moment. He wasn't sure what butterflies smelt like, but he felt like it might have been Jehan's scent. </p><p>The smell of the places their wings have met and the pollen on their feet. Nature. The Earth. Beauty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chocolates and Surprises

Courfeyrac awoke to a very odd sensation, one he hadn't in a very long time. It was six in the morning. He was excited for school. 

That was just about the weirdest thing. Now, he wasn't excited for school itself, of course, but for a boy he was going to see. 

Jean Prouvaire. Jehan. Just the name brought a smile to Courfeyrac's lips. And, though he wouldn't admit it, a giggle an octave higher than he liked would more often than not accompany it. 

Six. School didn't start until eight thirty. Well, nothing wrong with over prepared. 

Courf jumped in the shower despite having showered the night before. He would smell good and he wouldn't look tired. And his hair would be soft. Because sometimes he saw Jehan touching his friends' hair and weaving flowers into them.

Courfeyrac's hair was a mess most times, if not all the time. He had admittedly gotten things lost in it. Less of lost and more of misplaced. 

But today it would at least look maintained because there was no way that he would get something stuck in there around Jehan and embarrass himself. 

He had been chewing at his lips, a nervous habit he had inherited at the age of 8, and he hoped that it didn't show as he somewhat recklessly applied another coat of Chapstick. 

After a half hour of primping, he was somewhat pleased with how he looked and moved on to wonder what he would wear. 

Something simple, but something that complimented his physique. Something slimming. 

He picked at the sweaters hanging loosely off the hangers in his closet. Black, maroon, blue, yellow- he wasn't sure why he had the yellow one. He thought it made him look terrible. He plucked it off the hanger and cast it aside, continuing his searching. 

He settled on green. It was his favourite colour and it complimented his skin colour. Yes, good. Top down. Bottoms?

He thought of going straight for his lucky jeans- they were a bit worn, a tear through the knee and faded denim all around, but they were his lucky ones. The ones he wore when he needed an extra confidence boost. The ones he wore to his cousin's football game that helped them bring home the championship. They brought luck with him, and be considered it. 

But his parents always told him it looked trashy. Though they did also tell him tattoos looked trashy, but he liked them. In fact, Jehan had a tattoo on his collarbone that you could see the days he wore shirts that fell off one shoulder. It was of some foreign flower. A Japanese Cherry Blossom, he wanted to say, but maybe that was just because it was the only foreign flower he knew of. 

He decided to go with them. Better somewhat-presentable and lucky than over-dressed and unlucky. 

Making sure he grabbed the chocolates sat on his dresser, he made his way downstairs. 

By the time he got out the door it was a few minutes after seven thirty, and around seven forty when he reached the school. 

He planed to skip seeing his friends in the morning and oh straight to Jehan. See him before any of his friends got there and made rejection more embarrassing. 

There wasn't anything to reject, really, but you can tell when someone is really uncomfortable with something. 

Seven fourty-five. In the courtyard. Jehan sat on a wall, writing something. Poetry, he assumed. He always wrote poetry. Beautiful, beautiful poetry. Jehan's friends got to school at about eight. It's now or never. 

Courfeyrac took a step towards the centre of the courtyard where Jehan sat. One footstep. That was it. 

"I see you have chocolate."

"Not now, Grantaire. I have something to do."

"Like give me some chocolate?"

"It isn't for you."

Grantaire stood in front of him now. "Who's if for, then?"

"Myself. I wanted chocolate this morning so I have it for when I crave it again."

"All of it?"

"Yes, Grantaire. Please let me go."

"What's the hurry?"

"I need to talk to someone."

"Oooh, who?"

Courfeyrac sighed. "None of your business. Just let me go."

"I'll let you go when you tell me."

Courfeyrac tried to push past him. Not very harshly, but Grantaire was stronger than him anyhow. "Jehan. They're for Jehan. Can I go?"

Grantaire laughed. "I asked who you were talking to, not who the chocolate is for."

He stepped out of Courfeyrac's way and patted him on the back. "Shoulda said so in the first place."

Courfeyrac blushed but continued forth. Peacefully, he wished he could say, but no. Grantaire was ever so helpful. 

"Jehan! Hey, Prouvaire!" 

Jehan looked up, slightly alarmed and unaware of who was calling him. It looked like someone broke into his little bubble. 

"Courf's got something for ya."

Courfeyrac stopped. He was far away enough where he could turn back. Eat them. Just go home sick. But no.

Jehan smiles at him, this sweet, sickening smile that makes him so sure that everything is going to be okay. That smile that Courfeyrac had fallen for. 

He walked closer. Shakily, he made his way towards Jehan. 

"I um... I heard it was your birthday, so I got you this." He held out the little heart-shaped-box of chocolate and Jehan took it softly, smiling this angelic smile. 

"Thank you."

"Isn't your birthday in May, Jean?" Grantaire asked, voice still louder than necessary. 

"He's only being polite. You've embarrassed him enough." Jehan hopped down from the wall and hugged Courfeyrac. "Thank you, Courf."

His name meant so much more when Jehan said it. His heart fluttered as he breathed in all of Jehan- all he could get in that moment. He wasn't sure what butterflies smelt like, but he felt like it might have been Jehan's scent. 

The smell of the places their wings have met and the pollen on their feet. Nature. The Earth. Beauty. 

"It's very thoughtful. Would you like to stay with my friends and I today?"

Courfeyrac smiled his smitten, God-I-hope-my-cheeks-aren't-as-red-as-they-feel smile. "Could I?"

"Of course you could. I don't have many classes with you, but I think you're sweet."

Courfeyrac bit the insides of his cheeks, trying to keep in his excitement. This was something he wanted to get used to, but something he wasn't sure his heart would ever let him forget. 

One of Jehan's friends began walking towards them now. At least the biggest part was over. It helped that Jehan didn't react negatively. 

"Here comes Combeferre," Jehan smiled. His voice was so rhythmic. The way he spoke made his words come out like a song. A poet's voice, Courfeyrac guessed. 

"Ferre, you know Courfeyrac, right?"

Combeferre smiled at him. "Yes. I was in a group project with him once. We were the only ones doing any work." 

Courfeyrac smiled back and Combeferre added, "when the teacher says 'don't just pair up with your friends', they are only concerned about your grades."

"I know, but I couldn't just leave Grantaire on his own." 

Grantaire, who, for some reason unknown to Courfeyrac, was still there smiled. "If I fail, they have to have me again. They don't wanna do that. I get passed by hatred sometimes."

Combeferre smiled politely though obviously found this distasteful. Combeferre was smart and cared a lot about education, something Grantaire couldn't care less about. But this wasn't about Combeferre and Grantaire. It was about him and Jehan. 

Jehan just hopped back up to his spot on the wall and offered the spot beside him to Courfeyrac.

Smiling, Courfeyrac placed himself beside Jehan. "Thank you."

Jehan only shook his head slowly. "Thank you." He opened the box of chocolates he had gotten with a smile and offered one to Courfeyrac. "Hm?"

"Oh, no, but thank you." 

"Close your eyes."

Courfeyrac was confused but did as he was told. "Open."

Laughing faintly, he opened his mouth. He was unsure of what kind, but he knew Jehan just fed him some sort of chocolate. 

Combeferre raised an eyebrow at this, which Courfeyrac took as a good sigh. This meant that Jehan didn't do this with just anybody. 

Courfeyrac opened his eyes and smiled, finishing the piece of chocolate. "Thank you."

"It's my favourite," Jehan winked. 

Courfeyrac glanced at the box Jehan held. Like a paint pallet, at that. Jehan was an artist. "May I?"

Jehan smiled and shut his eyes, his eyebrows moving restlessly. He let Courfeyrac place the candy between his lips, waiting for him to move his hand away before closing his mouth, as to not bite him. "Mm... Caramel?"

Courfeyrac nodded. "Good."

"My turn again," Jehan grinned. 

Courfeyrac straightened his back and closed his eyes. 

Jehan brought his face to Courfeyrac's, hesitating for a moment before closing his eyes and pressing his lips against the other's. 

Courfeyrac's shoulders fell in a relaxed manner and Jehan's rose and fell lightly, as if he was giggling. 

Pulling away lightly and surveying Courfeyrac's reaction, Jehan smiled. He had done the right thing. 

Courfeyrac was stunned, in the best way possible. He licked at his lips hesitantly. They didn't feel too chapped, which was good. 

Jehan smiled again and the bell rang. "Of to class."

Courfeyrac was absolutely giddy. There wasn't a thing, he didn't think, that could ruin his day. 

He had the gentle affections of a poet, and that sounded a lot like happiness to him.


End file.
